The sun was high when they emerged from the pass. The track veered away from the canyon wall, twisting this way and that between stony outcrops. They halted on a rock-strewn plateau. Irenya slid off Nettle, shaking and bone-weary. The soles of her feet were still tingling. If anyone had bothered to ask, she could have told them how many hairs made up a horse’s tail. She needed to lie down.
Julis took the reins from her stiff fingers and led Nettle away. Irenya leaned back against a large boulder, the nearest approximation to a horizontal position. Jilali’s voice cut through her fatigue.
‘Well, my lady…’
Irenya opened her eyes and pushed upright. The female guard was standing nearby, her arms folded and feet planted wide. Her black riding leathers were cut to flatter her athletic body an
